


The Consequences of Two-Hour Angry Naps

by eloquenceindeath



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 00:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18789106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloquenceindeath/pseuds/eloquenceindeath
Summary: Michael wanted to play games again. Lindsay didn't. So, she makes a plan.





	The Consequences of Two-Hour Angry Naps

Lindsay stood, leaning against the counter with a glass in her hand. She glanced down at her water, contemplating why she was so emotionally disheveled.

  
She took a sip.

  
She almost expected this from Michael. He had always had a knack for being completely oblivious. It happened all the time as kids, and even more so now that they were both adults that had more experience with… adult things.

  
She swirled the liquid around, as if it were the cause for her problems.

  
It was then that Michael lept off the last step and came walking into the kitchen with the same vigor he was known for.

  
“What has you upset today? Couldn’t find something to spend money on?” Michael quipped almost mindlessly. He came up behind her, leaning to grab something off the counter while brushing against her back and staying there for milliseconds too long.

She shot him a look. He could’ve easily gone around.

  
(Surely) feigning indifference, he continued, “Well, I’m going to go pick up George Michael and take him to do something fun, you should do the same with Maeby. You know, act like a parent.” She then saw that he had grabbed the keys to the stair car. Lindsay didn’t have time to think of a response before he was strutting back out of the kitchen and out the door.

  
Lindsay poured out her drink with a heavy sigh.

  
It was like he didn’t even notice the consequences of his actions. The sidelong looks, the lingering touches, the comments with double-meanings… He had to know what he was doing. There was no way he couldn’t.

  
Ever since moving back in with her brother, there had been a certain tension, a thrumming of some sort of energy neither of them could, rather wanted to, discern. It was ominously present in every interaction, and they were almost forced to reckon with it if they let themselves hold gazes or drift too close for moments too long.

  
Lindsay wasn’t a fool- she knew they had a few brushes with this tension as teenagers. And while she would like to ignore what that tension really was, what it was implying, she couldn’t deny she was overwhelmingly aware of exactly what the tension was.

  
Luckily, as teenagers, Michael had left for college before they could’ve done any serious harm to their relationship or psyche. They’d never done anything that wasn’t only a little borderline inappropriate. Simple things, like cuddling up during movies on the couch or letting hands stray to places your sibling’s shouldn’t be. A result of the naïve curiosity of kids, nothing more.

  
Or at least, that’s what both had unknowingly chalked it up to. Of course, they politely ignored anything that had happened then in all the years leading up to now. Lindsay more out of embarrassment and Michael more out of righteousness, but nevertheless, the issue at hand went unmentioned.

  
Lindsay was somewhat prepared for that status quo again.

  
She, however, wasn’t a teenager anymore, and neither was Michael. The status quo wasn't going to work anymore. She had adult maturity and adult wants and adult needs- and what she wanted and what she needed, funnily enough, were finally the same things.

  
She needed her brother obviously, and in fact, _wanted_ him. Very badly.

  
With another heavy sigh, she flopped down on the couch with an old magazine in hand. Probably something Tobias had mistakenly bought.

  
Speaking of her husband, he was doing nothing in terms of dissuading her from this desire. He provided no distraction, let alone an outlet for her to focus on instead. Maybe if she just had someone else, anyone else, she would be able to ignore the revived tension between her and her brother.

  
Wanting Michael in the way she wanted Michael was inappropriate, she knew. A sister shouldn’t want her brother like that. But this reasoning was worn at this point since she had faced it already all those years ago. There had been enough time between then and now for her to decide that these facts no longer mattered to her.

  
Her problem was that Michael seemed perfectly content to keep going on in the same limbo they were stuck in. This obviously wouldn’t do, especially given that Lindsay was determined to not repeat the game they’d played as kids. Now, she supposed, would be time to start devising a plan. Michael wouldn’t give up his nice-guy schtick easily, but even he lacks resolution when chaos ensues.

  
Lindsay would simply supply the chaos this time.

  
She flipped through a few more pages of the magazine and then snapped it closed, having no use for the kind of self-help articles they contained. Frustrated by Michael and further frustrated by her lack of a clear game plan, she was now in too foul a mood to do anything but lay angrily on the couch. She huffed. What a mess.

  
After minutes of glaring at the off-white ceiling of the model home, she fell asleep. When she eventually woke up later to the dimly lit but still quiet house, she felt the familiar disorientation and unpleasantness of accidentally napping too long. The good thing was, she also woke with a renewed sense of how to help herself.  
Supplier of chaos indeed…

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic- please be gentle.


End file.
